


Origin of this Nick Wilde

by Doug48



Series: Zoo 1.2 [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 01:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doug48/pseuds/Doug48
Summary: So, everyone starts somewhere. I started with the scene in the movie, and I thought, what if it was worse and what if Nick tried to get even?





	Origin of this Nick Wilde

A very angry and very determined young fox waited in the dark, in an alley, across the street from the community center. He had avoided this place until he couldn’t anymore, and then he had gathered weapons, and had gone to confront his demons. 

He remembered the day they did things to him. His mom had looked at him and cried and cried. Nick could not cry anymore. Enough of that. He would start a new life by getting even.

He knew they were still in the building, but they would be coming out shortly. He knew the schedule, having watched them before, and then chickened out before engaging them those other times. Too many other times. Tonight he would not. Tonight he would-

“Hey,” a voice said, down wind and entirely too close to Nick’s right side. There was no emotion behind it. Almost like someone clearing their throat.

“What?” Nick replied, stupidly. "Who?" He was too surprised to say anything else.

“What are you doing?” The wolf asked. He still seemed only mildly interested.

“Nothing.” Nick heard his voice quaver, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

“You’ve got weapons,” the wolf observed. “Seems unusual. So, again, what are you doing?”

“They hurt me. They-. I’m going to hurt them back.”

“With these?” The wolf motioned to the crude knives Nick carried, one in each paw. “Can you even use them? Do you know how?” To Nick, the wolf looked very old, and his manner was very self-assured. “You smell like you're looking for a fight.”

“You don’t understand,” Nick said, frustrated. He was about to cry, again, but he really didn’t want to. He thought he was past all that. All that childish nonsense.

“You can’t attack mammals near the community center in a group by yourself. It’s stupid,” the wolf said, and sniffed. “You smell that? When hunting, anything unknown or different in your environment is dangerous. You know what that smell is?”

They were downwind of the buildings across the street. Nick had noticed a new smell, and now his nose quivered as he tried to determine what he was smelling. It was faint, sort of like some sort of oil or lubricant?

“I see you don’t know.” The wolf motioned with one of his paws toward an alley across the street. “Gun oil. From there. Your tormentors are not alone. They probably saw you or possibly smelled or heard something on a previous night and then told someone. So now, they have a guard. Can you take out the guard and then get revenge? What if the junior rangers run or their guard kills you?”

Nick shook his head emphatically, but kept his voice low. “No. This is all wrong! Are you saying I should not have stalked them? I should not have prepared?”

“Not at all,” the wolf replied, apparently unconcerned by Nick's tone. “Preparation is a friend to the hunter. But also attention to detail is a friend. You did something wrong previously, and so they noticed you. Now you have lost your most important advantage, surprise, and so you should not attack.”

Nick had been focusing entirely on the wolf, but now he heard something from his left and turned. He saw the Jr. Ranger Scouts leaving the community center the same way they had previously. They were unconcerned and unaware of their surroundings, as usual. 

“Wait,” the wolf said, putting an arm out to make sure Nick did not move. The mammals across the street would not see the fox and the wolf unless one of them moved too far out of the shadows of the alley.

Another shadow detached itself from a wall across the street. This was an adult horse, and he had both hoofs in the pockets of a coat.

“Probably an off-duty cop. A parent or a friend of a parent. If he saw you, with those,” the wolf gestured with his muzzle toward Nick’s hands. “He would shoot you, and get away with it, because he could just say that you were going to hurt those kids. Which you were. Then it wouldn’t matter what they had, or had not, done to you.”

“You don’t know-“ Nick began.

“I saw you come out of there. Wearing the muzzle.”

Now Nick looked down and away, uncertain, and embarrassed.

“I retrieved what was left of your uniform from the basement later. I gave it to the police along with my statement, but I really hadn't seen much. The police investigated. Results were inconclusive, apparently. Those boys all said the same thing and at least one of their fathers is an important mammal. They said you started it; you went crazy, and tried to hurt them. One of them was injured."

Nick continue to look uncertain.

“How much do you remember?” The wolf asked.

“All of it. A muzzle. Hands on me. They were kicking and punching. I was clawing and biting, but they were many and I was alone. They were tearing my clothes, punching and kicking and taunting me. I got away. The police," the fox said, his voice dripping with disgust, "didn't do anything.”

The junior scouts, and the horse, had all left the area by now. Nick saw this and glared at the wolf. 

He put a paw on Nick's shoulder. “I can help you, if you let me.”


End file.
